Leaving the "Land of Hope"

The academic program in Zwelethemba, "The Land of Hope", finished with a bang with our case study presentations that were held in more of a workshop setting, which enabled us all to really delve into the topics that our classmates researched over two days in a casual setting. The research questions were: "How do individuals in Zwelethemba negotiate which healing method to use, between Traditional, Religious and Biomedical?", "What are the determinants of health among farm workers and their families?, "What motivations exist for safety mothers? What compels them, why is there a need and why do they respond?, "How do grandmothers acting as primary caregivers in Zweletehmeba perceive their health to be affected by this role?", "What are the barriers to seeking ARV treatment in Zwelethemba?", "How is Traditional Medicine valued in Zwelethemba" and finally my group's "What is the role of community gardens in Zwelethemba?". Our Food and Nutrition group had a lot of fun stumbling upon gardens (we visited about 5 in the village), and speaking with the caretakers and school representatives about what was grown, who funded the garden and ultimately who uses the vegetables. We learned that much has changed with the recent influx of commercial grocery stores so the prevalence of personal gardens has decreased while gardening education in newer generations has decreased.

 The end of Zwelethemba was much more emotional than expected with our host mother reciting her mantra "I will not cry I will not cry" under a broken breadth that was filled with sadness. We all ended up teary together, but she blamed the “onions” that she had chopped that morning. I know her mind was with God that morning, who she always turns to in times of stress and sadness. “Grandma Titi”, our mentally-disabled neighbor who is always jolly and hugging, forcefully trust-falled into a final embrace with each of us and held us tight. She shook her finger at Max as she said she didn’t want him to leave. We waved to Mom through the window as we drove away, and her pearly white smile beamed as she blew her children goodbye kisses.
We drove through the cloud-shadowed mountains past Worcester towards Cape Town and alongside Display vineyards that striped the countryside. Susan explained that through her research on child labor in vineyards she discovered that these pristine and polished vineyards are placed alongside the road to tempt and deceive tourists of the actual work that goes into picking individual grape clusters and cutting them in a shape that resembles the continent of Africa. The slopes of the mountains were dusted with rough rock formations and dry shrubbery, and bright purple-blossomed trees sprung up like soft cotton balls along the countryside. The clouds lay so close to the earth and were sandwiched between mountains with their peaks just poking through to the hazy robin-egg blue sky. As we entered into Cape Town I felt a twinge of culture shock, with the pure cream columns of chic hotels planted firmly on the concrete grid of the city- a sharp contrast between the dusty pebbled shantytowns of Mandela Square.